


Stories from the B Side

by Stasia



Series: Rock and Roll Fantasy [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stasia/pseuds/Stasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin wasn't expecting this after-show meet-and-greet to be anything special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of side stories and alternate points of view from Unexpected Music. These will be posted as I write them with no specific schedule. Each chapter will be rated and tagged individually with the relationships and characters involved and as I write more, I'll add tags and relationships to the main list.
> 
> Many of these will be from Thorin's point of view, but we'll get to see everyone else's perspective as well as things that happen outside of Bilbo's POV.

First Meetings  
***

"Hey Thorin," Bifur leaned into the room he'd been waiting in at the club. "I just saw Legolas and he says it's going to start in a few minutes. You ready?"

Thorin stood up and stretched, twisting side to side at the waist. He grunted when his lower back gave a loud crack. At the door, Bifur snorted. 

"Sure," Thorin said. "Let me just grab my shirt." He pulled off the tee shirt he'd been wearing - it was one of his favorites, old and soft, with his sister's first business logo fading on the front - and pulled on a button down shirt. At first he started to button it, then shook his head at himself and left it hanging open. With a sigh, he picked up his belt buckle and hooked it into the metal framework holding the belt closed. 

Down the hall, he could hear the low rumble of the fans waiting for them. He scrubbed at his face but grinned when his nephews tumbled into him. "Kili, looking forward to this?"

Kili leaned against the wall and laughed. "She's here today! I texted her and we're having dinner after this."

Behind him, Fili snorted. "Yeah. I'll bet you won't get further than dinner."

"It doesn't matter," Kili said, eyes bright. "I'm happy to get to spend time with her. You're just jealous you don't have anyone pretty to have dinner with." He backhanded Fili in the stomach, then froze as he turned to Thorin. "Oh, Thorin, I'm so sorry. I'd forgotten about Candi."

Thorin laughed. "No need to worry - I'm happy that you're happy."

_You're right, though. I am jealous. I've never had even the smallest bit of what you have with her._

The next half hour was spent answering the same eight or ten questions from fans as they moved through their line and greeted him and his nephews. While one particularly annoying man held Fili's arm and expounded about his political theories, Thorin looked down the line. _This will never end._ The line stretched the length of the room and there were still people coming in the door. 

Dwalin caught his eye and pointed to someone standing in the line, waggling his eyebrows broadly. Thorin stared, then looked at the person Dwalin had pointed out. It was a man, middling tall, with light brown hair. He wasn't looking up the line, but was watching the group of people he was with. 

Thorin squinted, but the uneven lighting in the room made that section of the room very dark. The man glanced around toward Thorin and he could see the flash of the man's smile as he turned back to his party. 

"And my uncle insisted we get an education before joining the band," Fili said, drawing Thorin's attention back to where it was supposed to be. The woman in the group they were talking to smiled at Thorin, then stepped close, reaching out to grasp his forearm.

"That's so noble of you," she trilled. Thorin bared his teeth at her in a smile and stepped back. 

"It's important that everyone have the chance to get a good education," Thorin said. "I didn't want them to get distracted by being on tour and not have a chance to get the essentials done." He glanced away, down the line again, to see if he could see more of the man Dwalin had pointed out. 

"If you'd like to stand for your picture now," came the bland voice of the photographer hired for the event. Kili shot him a smile and Thorin made a mental note to leave a tip for the photographer. He'd been excellent about interjecting and distracting the excessively irritating fans. He stood between Fili and Kili, the fans gathered in front of them, and everyone smiled for the camera. 

As the group moved toward the room with the food, he heard the woman say to one of the other women in the group, "I _touched his arm._ I don't think I'll ever wash my hand again."

Fili snorted and caught his eye, grinning before the next group approached and started talking. Thorin nodded along, looking down the line again. The brown haired man was looking up at him, and this time he was standing directly in the light. There was someone standing a bit in front of him, so Thorin couldn't see all of him, but he was lovely. He stepped back into the line and Thorin pulled his attention to the people in front of him.

Several more groups of fans came, asked their usual inane questions, had their picture taken and left and Thorin couldn't stop looking down the line. Finally, they were nearly the next group and Thorin could see them better. The man was shorter than Thorin, with a nice solid body. He didn't have one of those super skinny builds which was so popular right now - he looked like he could actually eat a whole meal. He was with four teenaged boys who were excitedly discussing what they were going to say.

_Well, you didn't think he'd be single, did you?_

One of the boys, shorter than the rest and with wildly curly hair, said, "Why not? I mean, I'm not criticizing – I just like the way the harp guitar looks and the plain one is, well – "

"Plain," said Thorin, smiling as the boy jumped. He started to babble something, but Thorin put up a hand to stop him.

"None of the songs we performed in this set required the harp guitar, so I used the more traditional one." The boy squeaked and Thorin had to bite his lip to keep in his laugh. He'd forgotten how much more fun younger fans could be. Another of the boys leaned forward to say that he loved the songs about dragons. Then Fili started talking to them and the four boys all turned to him and Kili.

Their father stood watching them with a wide smile as they chattered to Thorin's nephews about something. He didn't seem interested either in joining their conversation or starting one with Thorin. It was almost as if he'd forgotten where he was.

"Are they all yours?" Thorin asked. There was no reason for him to be rude and ignore the man. He jumped and looked over, eyes wide. They were a light brown, or maybe a dark green, Thorin couldn't tell. 

"What? Oh, no, no." He laughed a little. "Only one of them is mine, and even he's not really mine. I mean I've sort of borrowed him, or, rather, he was sort of given to me." He paused, looking a little wide-eyed. He took a big breath. "I mean, his parents are off on a world cruise - their lifelong dream vacation - so he's staying with me until they get back." He looked away from Thorin, who'd been so caught by his eyes that he almost hadn't heard what the man was saying. "The one with the dark curly hair, Frodo. He's my nephew, sort of."

Thorin looked at the boys and back at the man. "So you brought them here? By yourself?" _Didn't your wife want to come with you?_

The boys started laughing and he smiled as he said, "Well, Frodo won the tickets and he'd have been disappointed if he hadn't been able to meet you." He looked back at Thorin, eyes still crinkled a bit in amusement. "And it's not by himself – he brought his band of hooligans."

"I mean – " Thorin started. _I didn't ask if you brought him all by_ him _self, clearly you brought his friends._ He shook his head and tried again. "So you came _just_ for him? If you were bored, surely you didn't need to come along." He could feel himself getting tense. _Why'd he come if he didn't want to?_

The man smiled at him and said, "I wasn't bored at all. I wandered around the booths for a while, then I did some paperwork."

Thorin jerked back. "You did work?" He wanted to reach out and take the man by the arm, so he crossed his arms to keep from touching him. "What, in the middle of a giant festival? Wasn't there anything more interesting to do? Did you watch the concert at all?"

The man had stopped paying attention to him, distracted by something going on with Fili and the boys. "Oh, um, of course I did."

"Did you like anything about the music?" Thorin asked, feeling unexpectedly hurt.

The man turned to him, brows drawn together. "Yes, in fact," he said, "I liked the song about fire, and the one you played in the middle, the one based on Hall of the Mountain King."

Kili looked at them, eyes bright. "Oh, you liked that? Thanks – that one was my idea. Uncle here didn't want to do it, but I said it was traditional." He grinned at Thorin, who rolled his eyes in return. "Most people don't know the music it's based on, though, so you're doing well. People usually just call that one the 'Creepy Instrumental Thing'."

The man smiled at Kili. "Well, it's hard to blame them – it comes by the creepiness naturally. I didn't think a rock band would use classical music, so I wasn't expecting anything like that."

"You didn't know what our music was like before you came?" Thorin wasn't sure why he found this so startling; the man wasn't dressed like any of the other fans in the room and he was clearly here just as a chaperone. There was no reason for him to have heard any of their music before. He saw Kili elbow Fili and dropped his arms to his sides, pressing his lips together. 

Before the man could answer, his sort-of nephew did for him. "Oh no," he said, "Uncle Bilbo doesn't listen to modern stuff. Just old music, like –" he paused, obviously trying to remember something. "um, Pink Floyd and Beethoven and what's that composer's name, Bilbo, that you like? The one with the bells?"

“Mike Oldfield?” Thorin blurted just before the man, Bilbo, did. Bilbo caught his eye and smiled slightly. 

Frodo shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I don't know his name, but Bilbo plays him all the time. Except when he's baking, then he usually plays something with words. He really likes the _Wicked_ soundtrack."

Thorin smiled as Bilbo covered his face with one hand. Then he told the boys to finish up and leave. Just before they did, he turned to Thorin and reached out a hand, saying, "It was very nice to meet you."

Thorin looked at his hand, then his slightly harrassed expression, and reached out for his hand, clasping it between both of his. He bowed slightly over it, letting its warmth fill his palms, and said, "The pleasure was all mine." 

He heard Fili choke on a snort and stood quickly, feeling Bilbo's hand slip from his. Bilbo hurried his boys away, stopping to say something to Fili, then trotting after them. Thorin could see them doing something silly in the door to the next room and turned back to his nephews, who were smiling at him with nearly identical broad grins. 

"Don't say anything," he said. "I don't want to hear it." They smirked at him, but then turned back into the professional showmen they were for the rest of the fans.

When it was finally time to go into the next room themselves, they found it filled with chattering fans, all turning towards them like iron filings to a magnet. Thorin stared around, looking for Bilbo, but couldn't see him anywhere. In the crush of the fans, the boys came up to them and greeted Gloin like an old friend so Thorin knew Bilbo had to be there. 

At the end of the evening, he collapsed into one of the club's chairs and relaxed, letting his arms fall to his sides and his head fall backward. "We have a break after this, right?"

Across the table from him, Dwalin laughed. "Yeah, a bit. We're flying to LA Monday night, but the next show's at the end of the week." 

"Excuse me?" One of the club's staff stood at Dwalin's shoulder, holding out a phone. "I found this and I wasn't sure if it was yours."

Dwalin took the phone and flicked it on. He stared at it for a second, then, glancing at Thorin, told the woman he'd take care of it.

He put the phone face down on the table next to him and leaned on his elbow. "So, what'd you think of that guy, Professor Baggins?"

"Who?" Thorin looked away from the cleaning crew. 

"The one with all the kids, I know you saw him." Dwalin's smile was sharp. Thorin felt his cheeks warm. "Oh, you _did_ see him."

"Yes," Fili swung a chair next to Thorin around and sat down in it backwards, resting his crossed arms over the back. "He seemed interesting." 

Thorin coughed slightly. "Oh for ... look, he's very attractive, but I don't even know his name. And I'm on tour all the time and ..." He trailed off at the look Dwalin was sending his way. 

Fili sighed. "I know Azog said that, but he was a fucking shithead, Thorin. You and Candi were together for a while, right, and she never complained."

"She had her own busy life and -" Thorin broke off. "And we didn't really love each other. Azog was an asshole, yes, but he wasn't exactly wrong about this. I'm not home much - hell, Fili, your mom's at my house more than I am." 

Kili fell into a chair next to Dwalin. "Hey, who's this phone belong to? It's not yours, Dwalin, you have that Nekocat case." He flipped it over and started laughing. He swiped his thumb across it and shook his head. "It's that guy's phone, with the kids! And the idiot's left it unlocked. Wow." He looked up at Thorin. "When you give it to him, make sure to tell him to lock it. It's really unsafe to leave your phone unlocked." Next to him, Fili perked up, leaning over to see the screen.

"What?" Thorin leaned forward, reaching for the phone, but Kili held it out of his reach, laughing. "Why would I tell him anything?"

"Well, someone's got to return it. We have time. He's sure to notice that it's gone - just tell the radio station and the club that you've got it and that you want to return it personally." Fili sounded amused.

Thorin let his head fall into his hands. _I give up._ "All right, fine. If he does call, I'll deliver it. But that's all there'll be to it."


	2. Background Chatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur's family loves him very much.

“Come on, little brother,” Bombur said, scooping the youngest of his kids onto his lap and turning him onto his back to tickle his round belly. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

Bofur waved his arms from the rug, where he was trapped under Bombur’s twin boys. After a few seconds of laughing struggle, he pulled his head free. “Blame these rascals here. They’ve been sitting on my head all day.” As if to illustrate his point, their younger sister, Anemone, came screaming in from the kitchen to land heavily on Bofur’s stomach. “Oooof,” he grunted.

“Now, stop that,” called Bombur's wife, Alissa. “Let your uncle breathe.” She stood in the kitchen door, her apron tied high over the round rise of her belly. She had a whisk in one hand and a bowl in the other. “I’ll need help with the cookies soon.”

The four children in the living room with their father and uncle all shouted and scrambled for their mother, who smiled at Bofur’s waving hand. 

“Ta,” he groaned. “That last assault was a bit much.” He rolled onto his side and then sat up, crossing his legs. “Bom and Bil are getting good at their coordinated attacks.”

Bombur smiled towards the kitchen, where the sounds of active ‘discussion’ poured through the door. The kids seemed to be negotiating who got which part of the cookie bowl to lick clean. Then he turned to his brother. “So, what’s up?”

Bofur squinted up at him. “Why does something have to be up? Can’t a man just, you know, be quiet once in a while?”

“He dumped you, didn’t he?”

Bofur sagged backwards, pulling his hat from where one of Bombur's twins had stuffed it under a couch cushion. "It wasn't working out with him anyway. He didn't like kids." 

The shouting from the kitchen rose in pitch and Bombur sighed. "I should go help," he said, shoving up from his chair. "Come along. Licking a cookie bowl clean helps all ills."

Bofur slouched after him, adjusting his hat on his head. "That or a couple bottles of wine."

***

Bombur dropped his coat on top of his cousin's on the low bench just inside Bofur's door. "Bofur," he called. "I've brought dinner."

"Great!" Bofur called, from deep in the apartment. "Bring it to the living room. Bifur's here already."

In the living room, Bombur lowered the heavy box he'd been carrying onto the small dining table. He grinned at his cousin, then sat down on the couch next to Bifur.

"So, I've met Thorin's young man." Bombur leaned back and took a sip from the bottle of beer Bifur handed him. "Thanks, that's lovely."

Bifur grinned. "Welcome." He drank deeply from his own bottle, then sighed. "I met him as well. He's nice and it's clear that Thorin's very interested."

"Hey," Bofur shouted from his kitchen. "How come you two've met him - 'specially you, Bombur - and I haven't?"

Bifur twisted around to look in his direction. "You have." 

Bofur came out of the kitchen carrying a huge bowl of popcorn in one arm. He held three smaller bowls filled with several seasonings shakers in the other, with his own bottle of beer tucked precariously into his elbow. "I have not," he said. "I'd know if I'd met the guy Thorin's dating."

He sat down and shoved the bowl onto the cluttered coffee table; there was a small metallic crash as something fell off the far side of the table. At Bombur's look, Bofur laughed. "It's just my rasps, nothing important. Come on, spill. Who's this guy?"

"He's nice," Bombur said. "Thorin brought him to the restaurant for dinner a few weeks ago."

Bifur scooped some of the popcorn from the larger bowl to a smaller one and shook a healthy amount of a green and black seasoning over it. With a smile, he said, "You gave him Deathless."

Bofur turned to him slowly. "I ... " He started laughing. "Well, that's a fine thing. I remember him, at Summer's End. Hair kind of a wild mop, right?" 

Bombur grinned. "He's cut it, I think." He seasoned his own bowl of popcorn and leaned back. "Thorin seemed quite smitten. He barely finished any of his food."

Bofur snorted. "Well, that's definitive. I don't remember - I think the guy gave me his name, but I'm not sure. Who is he?"

Bifur stared at him. "You don't know who he is? How did you come to give him Deathless, then?"

"He came into the booth, didn't he? He reminded me of someone, I couldn't figure out who. He looked unhappy about somethin', but when this little fam'ly came in, he sort of ... I dunno, lit up a bit." Bofur chewed thoughtfully on a handful of popcorn. "Then, he started looking at the dwarves and picked up Deathless and - " 

He broke off and his smile twisted a bit. "And he looked exactly like Thorin did when that last girl dumped him, what's her name, the blonde. And I just thought, there's a man who understands what it's like to be lonely." He shrugged. "And Bob's your uncle, I gave him Deathless. He bought one of the Little Men as well, and an elf, and one of the hill houses. And a dragon."

Bombur and Bifur looked at him, then at each other. The room was silent for a minute. Then Bombur said, "Well. That's clear enough, I guess." He chuckled. "He looked happy to be with Thorin."

Bifur smiled toothily at Bofur. "Now we only have to find someone nice for you, cousin, and everyone will be happy."

"Hey now," Bofur said, "you know I've stopped looking. I'm fine with the way things are."

Bombur laughed. "Sure you are. That explains your romance novel collection, right?

"Is that what we're calling it now," Bifur muttered, not quite softly enough for his cousins to ignore it.

Bofur threw a handful of popcorn in his direction. "Aw, shut it. I'm puttin' on the movie now, and you can't stop me." He waved the remote at the television and grinned as the screen flashed. "You'll never guess what movie I picked this time."

"Anything is better than when you picked _The Little Mermaid_ ," grumbled Bombur. Bifur cracked a laugh. 

Bofur tipped his nose up and glared at his older brother. "I'll have you know that Ursula is a feminist icon."

"Whatever," Bombur snorted. "I'll pay more attention the next time Anemone watches it."

"I'll expect a three page paper discussing her contribution to post-modern feminism at our next movie night." Bofur adjusted his bowl of popcorn and hit play on the remote. The tv screen flickered and Bifur started to laugh. 

" _Paul?_ Good choice." He settled back into the couch and grinned. Next to him, Bombur rolled his eyes. 

After the movie, they moved to the small table Bofur had in the corner and sat down to eat the food Bombur had brought. 

"Not to beat a dead horse," Bifur said after the initial burst of eating had slowed, "but are you interested in dating any more or have you given up?"

Bofur stared at him, eyes wide and one cheek swollen with pasta, the tails of which were dangling from his mouth. "Mmmm?"

Bifur rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm certainly not talking about mister Married with Children over here. Yes, you. Because this thing you've been doing, where you only date people you meet at fairs or bars – it's not working."

"We could help you find someone," Bombur said brightly, wiping his mouth on a paper towel from the roll Bofur had on the table. "Between the two of us, we meet a lot of nice guys."

Bofur looked back and forth between them, his expression a little hunted. "Guys, you know I love you, but I'm over thirty. I can find my own dates."

"Apparently not good ones," Bifur said, chewing calmly. "It stands to reason you should accept help, you know. We're not saying you have to date everyone we know, but this way you can find a wider range of people."

Bofur put his fork down. "Thanks. No, really, thanks, but this?" He waved his hand in a stirring movement between his brother and cousin. "This is not helping. I'm fine."

***

Bofur sighed as he sat behind the table at the Christmas Bizarre Bazarre Art Festival and watched people stream past his booth on their way out. The PA system had announced the imminent closure of the show for the day and he rubbed his face in exhaustion. 

The day had gone well enough; he'd sold nearly every one of the dragons and more than half the elves – he'd have to make more of those soon. But everyone who'd come through had been part of a group, part of a couple. He wished his family hadn't made him realize how lonely he was. 

_From: Bofur  
To: Bombur, Bifur_

_All RIGHT, fine. I don't want to be single anymore.  
_

_From: Bombur  
To: Bofur, Bifur_

_Why don't you come to the big Family Dinner? Thorin's bringing his boyfriend, so you can meet him officially, and we can talk about what you're looking for in a date. Maybe he knows someone nice.  
_

_From: Bofur  
To: Bombur, Bifur_

_I'll be there. I'll bring the holiday gifts, as usual. And Bifur, we'll need more dragons and elves. And some of the little men, I think. I'm nearly out. See you in a week.  
_


	3. He's the One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Thorin commits, he gives it his all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set just after [Chapter 31](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2589326/chapters/9200011) in the main story line. I'm working on more of this from Thorin's POV, but this seemed like a good place to stop and give to you guys.

Thorin didn't remember driving home. The last thing he remembered was Bilbo's red tail-lights disappearing away from him around a corner. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in his car at home, the anxious face of Dis floating in his car window. 

"Thorin." She stood back as he opened the door and unfolded himself, feeling old and stiff. "What happened? You look terrible." She reached for him and he flinched backward, clenching his fists. He winced, looking down at the unexpected pain in his hand. 

"Oh no," Dis said, taking hold of his wrist and pulling his arm toward her. "What _happened?_ You didn't … "

"I – " Bilbo's voice floated through his head. _"… that was a brick wall you hit…"_ Thorin pulled his hand back from Dis. "It's nothing. Go to bed. It's late."

She stood, hands propped on her hips, glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. What the hell _happened?_ " When he tried to step around her, she shifted to remain in his way. After a moment, she sighed deeply and ran a hand down his arm, gripping his forearm gently. "Come inside and I'll take a look at that."

In the kitchen, she pushed him into a chair and sat next to him with a first aid kit. He thought about trying to get her to go to bed, but gave up. It wasn't worth it. He kept seeing the expression on Bilbo's face as he said that he couldn't do this any more. 

"… orin. Come on, Thorin, talk to me." His sister's voice was low and slightly exasperated.

Thorin blinked at her, not sure what she wanted. "What?" His mouth was very dry and he could barely get the word out, so he tried again. "What is it? Bilbo said my hand's not broken, so what?"

Dis' expression shifted to one of such sorrow he felt a spike of anxiety. 

"What? Has something happened to one of the boys? They're okay, right? Are you okay?" He started to push back from the table, but her hands closed tightly over his wrist. 

"Thorin. We're all fine, there's nothing we need. What's wrong with _you_? What happened – is Bilbo okay?" Her hands were warm; they felt like the only warm thing in the room.

"Bilbo's … did you know that he knows about Azog?" At the shock on her face, he shook his head. "Not the truth, not everything, but that he exists. That's enough, isn't it?" He pressed his lips together. "What's worse is that Azog knows about him. He said he took pictures of him."

"Who took pictures of whom?" Fili was leaning against the doorjamb, hair a tousled mess; one of his mustache braids was half unravelled, making an odd sort of puffy ball next to his chin. 

"Azog took pictures of Bilbo, I can only assume," Dis said. "Why aren't you in bed?"

Fili moved to the counter and filled the kettle, turning it on. "Oh give over, mom. I've been staying up all night since I was in college. And anyway, I got up to get a glass of water and saw lights in the courtyard. I turned your car lights off, by the way, Uncle." He scooped coffee grounds into the french press and turned to lean against the counter. 

"So, Azog knows about Bilbo. This isn't good, but surely it's inevitable. You've told Bilbo about him, right?"

Thorin shook his head. "I was hoping I wouldn’t have to."

Dis snorted. "Oh Thorin." 

Fili poured boiling water into the press and brought it and three cups to the table, then turned to get milk and sugar. "Okay, so let's start at the beginning." He pressed the plunger down and poured coffee. "Bilbo knows about Gundabad – what did he say about it? And he says that Azog knows about him. Have you looked to see for yourself?" 

Thorin shook his head. "I won't give that asshole page hits. And Bilbo said that there were pictures of him from on campus, so – "

"So Azog really does know where he is." Dis said slowly. "Yeah, that's not good. You're going to have to talk to him about Azog, though. Unless." She paused and looked questioning. "Unless you're not really interested in this guy, in which case, this sounds like a good time to end it."

"I can't," Thorin said, covering his face with his hands and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He heard a sharp breath and some harsh whispers and dug his fingertips into his scalp. "What?"

"Why not?" Fili raised his eyebrows calmly when Dis glared at him. "No, really? I mean, I like Bilbo – he's great, but if you don't want to have to tell him about Azog…" He shrugged.

Thorin wrapped his hands around his cup of coffee. Dis had put milk and sugar in and he sent her a grateful smile. "I can't end it. Not this time. He's …" Thorin looked away from Dis' suddenly understanding gaze. "He's it. He's the one."


	4. Chapter Four - A Glimpse of Thorin's Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin thought things might be going a bit too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is what was going on for Thorin during [Chapter 32](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2589326/chapters/9302233) of the main story.

Thorin spent the next day wandering around the house. He'd managed to get Dis and Fili to leave a little after his embarrassing confession, although before she left his sister had threatened to make him talk about it more.

He tried to read, but found that he'd gotten through several chapters of the book he was reading and couldn't remember any of it. He knew that composing was a lost hope, so finally he went back to bed. He expected to just lie under the blankets and stare at his ceiling, but instead woke up in the late afternoon feeling warm and heavy. 

Showering with his injured hand was an unpleasant experience; the scrapes re-opened in the hot water, so he wrapped gauze around his hand before going downstairs to find food. In the kitchen, he saw that Fili had set up the french press for a fresh pot. Shaking his head at his family – always so kind to him even when he didn't really deserve it – he started the kettle and opened the fridge to see if there was anything worth eating. 

That evening, after being able to focus on absolutely nothing, he gave in and took his phone out from under the couch cushions, where he'd hidden it from himself in an attempt to stop checking to see if Bilbo had texted him. 

It took five tries before he had a message he felt comfortable with. 

_From: Thorin  
To: Bilbo _

_Can I call you?  
_

Before he had a chance to get anxious, the phone vibrated and Bilbo's smiling face filled the screen. Thorin nearly fumbled the phone in his haste to press the Answer button. Bilbo didn't sound angry, or even upset, and Thorin felt the pain in his neck, which had ached since he'd found out how long he'd left Bilbo out in the cold the night before, begin to ease.

Talking to Bilbo felt natural almost immediately; the difference between Bilbo's cheerful voice and the disdain and rejection he'd been imagining made Thorin feel a bit faint. In a burst of enthusiasm, he invited Bilbo over before the party, relaxing more when Bilbo sounded honestly pleased at the invitation. 

The conversation then drifted to Frodo and his relationships, and Thorin fell backwards on the couch, pulling one of the cushions across his chest and hugging it. _He wasn't breaking up with me. He wasn't._

He rubbed his face when Bilbo reminded him of Dwalin's indiscretion about his college years, and enjoyed imagining Bilbo's face as he teased him back. He rolled over a bit and reached for the cup of coffee he'd left on the table just as Bilbo responded.

"No, not really. I mean, sure, who wouldn't want to look at a swimmer's body, but mostly now I’m interested in someone I can talk to and rely on. The fact that you're very handsome and sexy as hell is just gravy."

Thorin twitched at the thought of Bilbo seeing him as sexy and slid off the couch, dropping the phone as he fell. After a hurried moment of fishing, he pulled the phone out from under the table. _Thank fuck that didn't hang it up!_

"Sorry, sorry, dropped the phone. I –" Thorin coughed, stuck on the floor between the couch and the table. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry. Should I not have said it?" Bilbo sounded amused.

"No, no, it's fine … good. I like the way you look. Your hair glowed in the light when we first met. I remember watching you as you waited with your group of kids." Thorin closed his eyes and could still see the way Bilbo had looked, solid and attractive, the single light picking him out of the dark.

Bilbo sounded surprised. "You noticed me then? But I'm just – I'm nothing special."

"Ah, but Bilbo," Thorin said, thinking of the ways he'd like to show Bilbo how much he meant to him, "you're everything special."

***

When they got off the phone, Thorin checked his cookbooks for the recipes he wanted to use and took pictures of the ingredients lists with his phone. He tugged on a light jacket before going into the garage and was startled that his car wasn't there. After a second, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. 

"Right, I left it outside. Fili turned off the lights." 

He bought everything on the lists, not sure what he had in stock and what he needed. Easier to just buy everything than to run out of something essential. When he got home, Dis was waiting in his kitchen.

"You're cooking?" She peered into one of the bags, pulling out a carton of pasta. 

He turned away from her knowing expression and started putting things on shelves. "Yes, for tomorrow. I mean, I'm not starting now, but I wanted to get the shopping out of the way."

"It is easier in the middle of the night," she said, opening one of the packages of Pepperidge Farms cookies and helping herself to some. "Bilbo's coming over?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "How'd you know?"

She just sighed and stood up. Patting his chest, she said, "Good luck."

The next day he got up early and stuck the pork roast into the oven, carefully following the instructions for scoring the rind. By the time it was dark again – barely any time, in the winter – he'd half convinced himself that Bilbo wasn't really coming, but that he, Thorin, had imagined the phone conversation. Only the slightly sore bruise on his hip from where hit the floor when he fell off the couch kept him from turning off the oven and going to bed in despair.

In the afternoon, he checked the mailbox at the bottom of the drive. The quick walk felt good in the brisk air; he gathered up the envelopes and, stuffing them into his jacket without looking at them, walked back up to the courtyard and stepped past the buildings so he could see over the water towards the East Bay. Soon he shivered, and went inside.

Most of the mail was junk; three credit card offers, five catalogs for band and music gear (he checked and four of those were addressed to Fili), holiday cards from his cousin Dain as well as Balin and a mysterious small package from Dwalin. 

One envelope was from an address he didn't recognize in New York. It was handwritten, and there wasn't a name over the return address. He tore it open and tugged out a page of heavy-weight cream paper.

_5th Ave  
New York, NY_

_Mr Durin,_

_Although we haven't been formally introduced, I'm certain our families long connection makes my name as familiar to you as your own siblings, as yours is to me. I enjoy the chance to follow your endeavors and triumphs through the news, as I'm sure you do mine._

_I'm writing to engage your help in a small matter which pertains to both of our families. I believe you have in your possession an object which was originally one of the great treasures of my house. Given the many neglected opportunities your family has had to return it, I can only believe that the elder members of your family are unaware of just how important it is to my family that this item be returned._

_I would appreciate the chance to discuss this with you in person, as the two youngest adult members of our respective families. I am convinced that, after a clear demonstration of the provenance of the object in question, you will return it to me immediately, as the leading – and now solitary – representative of my family._

_I await your response with hope,_

_Smaug_

__


	5. Christmas in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even a quiet Christmas is special when you spend it in paradise with someone you love. This is set some time in the future of Unexpected Music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nothing but fluff. Pure, unadulterated, cotton candy colored fluff.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, even if it's just Happy Friday!!!

Bilbo groaned as the alarm in his phone went off. He groped around on the pretty nightstand and, when he found his phone, tapped the snooze button.

"You're not seriously getting up?" Thorin's hair was a wild tangle half-covering his face; Bilbo remembered making a mental note to brush it yesterday afternoon on the beach, but they'd both forgotten in the pleasures of the evening later.

Bilbo sat up in bed. "I most certainly am. They're putting on breakfast for us – on Christmas, no less. And –" He wiggled out from under the covers, stretching his back out as he stood up. "Given the brilliant breakfasts they've made for the past week, I'm not missing out." 

He pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and stuck his feet into the flip flops Thorin had insisted he buy the day they landed at Kona airport. At the door, he turned back to say that Thorin could stay in bed if he liked, but paused at the sight of Thorin, sitting on the edge of the bed, one foot on its side, the sheet dripping from his lap to the floor, and his mouth open wide in a yawn. _I could look at that view forever._

"You don't have to – " he started, but Thorin shook his head as he finished yawning.

"No, if you're up, I'm up. There's no point in staying in bed without you. And anyway," Thorin stood up and idly scratched his hip, looking around at the pile of sheets and clothes on the floor by the side of the bed. "I want to take you to the black sand beach today."

Breakfast was cheese souffles so light Bilbo thought they might float off the plates, with steamed asparagus and shaved ham. This morning's fruit salad was fresh papaya, banana, pineapple, and cherimoya with slivered macadamia nuts and just a little salt; every time Bilbo tried some, he wished he could just live on fruit.

After breakfast, Bilbo went upstairs to shower. Bilbo realized that Thorin had decided to join him when he felt a warm hand sliding up his thigh. 

Later, on the way to the beach, Bilbo leaned back in the car and watched the way the ocean peeked in and out of view as the road curved. Thorin had rented a 4-wheel drive SUV which Bilbo had been amused by at first ("Surely you don't need to prove your masculinity?"), but which had proven very useful when they drove around the volcano mouth. Thorin promised he'd take Bilbo on the cross-island roads which were only accessible by 4-wheel drive vehicles and therefore were mostly locals-only. 

They were the only people on the beach. Thorin loaded Bilbo up with the large blanket they'd brought to lie on as well as a bag with reading and music, while he followed with a large cloth-lined wicker basket. Once on the beach, they spread out the blanket, arranging heavy things to hold down the corners.

Bilbo pulled off his tee shirt, leaving his shorts on. He'd had to buy swimming shorts to wear on this trip and still felt slightly uncomfortable in them, but Thorin dropped his shirt and loose shorts to show a pair of tiny red spandex swimming briefs and nothing else.

"Come on," he said, holding out a hand. "The water here is lovely."

Bilbo held on tight and let the warm salt water surround him. The water didn't get more than thigh deep for quite a ways out and Bilbo and Thorin spent some time floating gently on the surface wearing the inexpensive snorkels Fili and Kili had hidden in their luggage. 

The water was unexpected– a clear, shimmering green, as if they were floating in old glass. The sunlight filtered through in heavy bands; none of the water was dark, exactly, but streaks of it glowed with the increasing warmth and light of the sun. Bilbo watched Thorin trail his fingers through the fine sand and pull out several small shells, but there weren't any fish that Bilbo could see.

Then Thorin gripped Bilbo's arm and pointed. Bilbo turned to see what had got Thorin so excited and he froze – nearly forgetting how to breathe through the plastic tube of the snorkel – as he saw a pair of green turtles lazily float past on their way to the beach. Bilbo flailed for a moment, then stood up. He could clearly see the large oval-ish shapes of the turtles through the green glass of the water.

Thorin stood next to him, his face a mixture of pride and a wonder that matched what Bilbo was feeling.

"Thorin," Bilbo whispered, "those are turtles. Are they going to lay eggs? Should we leave?"

Thorin chuckled. "No, I think it's the wrong season. They like this beach, though. It's a well-known sunning spot for them."

Bilbo turned to look at their blanket, a riot of color against the dark sand. "Are we in their way?"

"I think they'll have enough room," Thorin said. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Bilbo's waist. "We can go in and watch them, if you want."

Turtle watching proved to be pleasant but not particularly exciting. Once the turtles settled into a hollow in the sand, they simply lay there, absorbing the warmth of the day. Bilbo and Thorin followed their example, leaning back on piles of towels and sling chairs that Thorin had organized sometime when Bilbo hadn't been paying attention.

Bilbo's phone rang, startling him. He fished around in the bags until he found it, then he grinned.

"Hey Frodo, you'll never guess what I'm sitting next to."

He could hear Frodo groan. "Oh god, Bilbo, it's just Thorin. I was at the wedding, remember?"

Bilbo snorted. "A pair of _green turtles._ "

"What? Like in Finding Nemo?"

Bilbo laughed. "Exactly like, only they haven't said anything yet." He smiled as he listened to Frodo telling Bilbo's parents. "Hey kiddo, how's the snow?"

Frodo and Sam had taken snowboarding lessons, then they'd started going down the different slopes. Bilbo hoped Frodo wouldn't break his neck. As he listened, he watched Thorin stand up, stretch, and amble back down to the water with his snorkel. The water splashed up Thorin's thighs, throwing sparkling drops into the air. Thorin lowered himself onto the water and then all Bilbo could see was the red of his briefs and the flash of his feet.

"It sounds like you're having a great time, Frodo," Bilbo said, "but I've got to go now. Have a great Christmas, and I'll call later, okay?"

After lunch, a few other families came to the beach. Bilbo was impressed to see that even the small children carefully avoided the turtles and even seemed to be trying to avoid standing or playing directly in the line between the turtles and the ocean. 

Back at the bed and breakfast, they showered again, then Bilbo settled in at the window with one of the books from the many on the shelves in their room. Before long he gave up and lay down in the warm bed. _I'll just take a short nap and be up for dinner._

When he woke, it was getting dark outside. Thorin sat in the overstuffed chair next to the bed, light from the single lamp pouring over his shoulder and onto the pages of the book in his lap. When Bilbo moved, Thorin stuck his finger into the book to hold his place and leaned forward, smiling.

"Nice nap?"

"Mmm, why didn't you get into bed with me?" Bilbo stretched on the bed, still feeling a bit groggy.

"I thought you wouldn't want to miss dinner." Thorin sat on the side of the bed and leaned in for a kiss and Bilbo found himself much more awake.

"Dinner?" Bilbo said, a bit later. "How … nothing's open, surely."

Thorin stood and pulled Bilbo to his feet. "I've got permission to use the kitchen downstairs. I got supplies – we can make our own little feast here."

Downstairs, Bilbo found cornish game hens, locally grown vegetables, a bottle of champagne, and a selection of herbs growing in pots. "Oh, this'll do," he said and checked to see how the oven worked.

While they cooked, they called their families – Thorin had sent pictures of the turtles already, as well as several of Bilbo playing in the surf. 

By the time they'd eaten and cleaned up, it was nearly midnight. Upstairs, back in bed, Bilbo lay wrapped in Thorin's arms, warm and comfortable. 

"Hey," he said, leaning up for a kiss. "Thank you for a lovely Christmas."

Thorin's warm hands stroked up Bilbo's back. "Oh no," he said, his voice deep and ardent. "Thank you."


	6. Be Careful What You Wish For - part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wanted to show Frodo and his friends all the good things to do in his childhood home. He hadn't thought that the shadows from his own past would turn out to be quite so solid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what was happening in Lysander on the day of the shooting. There'll be more, but I thought this was a good place to start.

"Hey, pass the potatoes!" Merry leaned forward and reached across Fili, who shook his head and poked the back of his hand. 

"Sit down, they're coming," Sam called from further up the table. He dished some of the roast potatoes and onions onto his plate, then passed it to Tauriel, at his left. "I don't know if there'll be any sausage left, though. Sorry, Merry." He grinned at Merry's yelp of frustration.

Thrain stood up from his seat at the head of the table. "I shall retrieve the second batch," he said, smiling down the table.

Thorin and Gimli both shot to their feet and followed him to the kitchen, each taking a platter piled with breakfast foods. Gimli grinned as he set his down in front of Legolas. "More food?"

Legolas eyed him, then shook his head. His plate was only half as full as the teenagers' and he looked slightly appalled at how much Merry and Pippin could eat. 

"What are your plans for the day?" Thrain asked as he carefully lowered himself into his seat. His own plate had been emptied very early in the meal, although he was on his second cup of coffee.

Thorin looked down at his plate, but Kili spoke up, his voice bright. "We thought we'd get some boats and try to go up the river."

Thrain raised one brow. "Isn't it a bit early in the season for boating?"

"Nah," Pippin said. "Our water's much colder, and all year long. This is nothing." He swallowed a large bite, and continued. "I've been out on the beach when it's been so cold we were in ski gear."

"We won't be going far," Tauriel contributed, "and we've all brought good outerwear." 

By the time they'd rented the boats and settled who was going to be in which boat, the kids were anxious to get going. Pippin, Sam, and Kili pushed off from the bank carefully, then Pippin and Sam started paddling. Thorin and Frodo laughed as they watched from the shore as Pippin deliberately paddled in the opposite direction as Sam, making their boat swing in circles. 

"Behave yourself," Gimli shouted, "or the next time you want help with your damned dwarf mining party, I'll leave you all to die."

"Will that work?" Thorin asked Frodo, who shrugged, his hands buried deep in the pockets of Bilbo's jacket. 

"Who knows, with Pippin," Frodo said, smiling at his friend. Thorin followed his gaze and saw the boat nearly hit one of the old piers. "I guess I'm in the other one, with Fili and Merry," Frodo continued. At least we'll be close by when Pippin capsizes them." His face stiffened for a second, then he turned and climbed into the second boat, calling over his shoulder to Merry to hurry up 

Thorin felt his chest squeeze at the reminder of Frodo's parents and wished he could talk to Bilbo. _I wonder what he's doing right now._ He rubbed his eyes, trying not to remember the comfortable way they'd snuggled on the couch. _Leaving was the only thing you could do for him, don't forget that. It's not like it'll take him long to find someone else, someone who isn't bad for him._

By the time Thorin opened his eyes again, Frodo's boat had reached the old piers. He was laughing at something Fili was saying and Thorin hoped he'd go home with good memories. _It would be nice for someone to have good memories of these damned piers._

He and the rest of the group walked up the path, following the boats. The boater's voices were bright and indistinct across the water. Gimli and Legolas were walking faster – Gimli appeared to be trying to guide the boaters toward something he could see and Legolas was laughing at the way Kili and Fili were trying to keep their overenthusiastic teenaged paddlers from tipping everyone into the water.

Tauriel walked with Thorin, her red hair caught up in a long braid which was tucked underneath her fine green scarf. She glanced up at him. "Are you okay?" Her voice was soft.

He shrugged. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you haven't come back here for years, right? That can't be because it's a place you love and cherish, and if we're really here to look for evidence Azog stole this heirloom of yours, then that's not good either." She sighed. "So, there's every reason for you to be unhappy."

He looked at her, startled both by her observations and by the fact that she wasn't very much shorter than he. "I – " he started, then changed his mind. "Thank you, yes. It does feel odd to be here, but it's sort of nostalgic." He looked up the path toward Legolas and Gimli, then back the way they'd come.

There was another person on the path about fifty yards behind them. His jacket fell open behind his arms, which were crossed over his chest with his hands tucked into the gap. His pale blond hair caught the light and Thorin couldn't figure out if he looked like someone he knew now or if he was just reminding him of someone from his childhood summers.

"What is it?" Tauriel sounded slightly sharp and he realized he'd been ignoring her.

"Sorry," he said, "but that person looked familiar for a second."

She glanced behind them and shrugged. "Want to wait for him to catch up?"

He shook his head. "No, it's probably nothing. Just, you know – " He waved a hand. "A trick of the light or the distance." He glanced back; the stranger had stopped and was watching the river.

"Hey, _Thorin_!" Merry shouted. He was standing in his boat, pointing at the second pier out. "I think I see something."

Thorin and Tauriel jogged closer to the piers. Tauriel stood with Gimli and Legolas, who were leaning over the railing trying to see what the kids were pointing at. Frodo was standing up in the middle of his boat, reaching for the stones of the pier. His hand was pale against the moss covered grey stones.

He turned to say something to Fili, who shook his head. Merry swirled his oar in the water and laughed up at Frodo, who shrugged and moved one foot to the rocks at the base of the pier. He stretched up to reach the place Merry had been pointing to.

Something moving in the corner of Thorin's vision caught his attention and he glanced down the path to see the blond man holding his hands together, pointing at the boats on the river. There was something dark in his hands and for a confused second, Thorin thought he was holding a wand; it almost looked like he was pretending to be a wizard from the Harry Potter books.

_CRACK_

Smoke curled up from the dark shape and Thorin felt his whole body freeze. _Oh shit it's a gun he has a gun he's shot at –_

_"FRODO!!"_

Thorin spun around just in time to see Fili falling into the water. Fili swam to a dark shape on the water and tugged at it, turning it over to reveal Frodo before dragging him half out of the water and moving back to the boat.

Thorin turned back to look at the blond, feeling as if he were stuck in glue. The stranger was nearly gone; all Thorin could see was his back retreating between two trees and into the parking lot behind them.

"Thorin!" Tauriel's voice was sharp and he wondered if she'd been calling him for long. She was bent over Frodo's body, her hands moving confidently over it. He moved closer, suddenly feeling like his whole body was filled with electricity, skittering over his skin, stopping his lungs. 

_Oh god, how will I tell Bilbo?_

" – think so. We're on the north side of the Seneca, near the bridge. … I don't know." Gimli turned from where he'd been standing and said, "Thorin, where are we?"

Thorin dragged his eyes from Frodo's body. "What? Oh, we're on the Northeast Trail, just past the Oswego Street bridge." He flicked a glance at the water. "Near the old piers."

Gimli nodded and relayed the information to whoever he was talking to. Thorin stopped paying attention and shuffled closer to the group huddled around Frodo's body.

"Frodo," Fili said, his voice strained, "stop moving. Gimli's called an ambulance and they'll be here soon."

"It hurts?" 

Thorin could barely hear Frodo's voice in the rush of white noise that filled his head at the thought that he was alive. _I haven't gotten Bilbo's nephew killed._ He staggered; a strong arm came around his back and he turned to see the sympathetic face of Legolas.

"It's going to be all right," he said. 

The sound of sirens filled the air a second later.


	7. Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is facing the consequences of long-past relationships. 
> 
> or:
> 
> Chapter 73, but from Thorin's point of view.

The ambulance screamed up to the parking lot just behind the path and a pair of muscular young men boiled out. Somehow, they got Frodo onto a gurney and into the vehicle before Thorin quite understood what was going on. 

"I'll go with him," Fili said, but Thorin could see that Fili was staring at him, one hand held out, as if inviting Thorin along. Thorin backed up, feeling ill; Fili shrugged and was whisked away.

Thorin turned away from the ambulance as it disappeared around the corner of the building. Merry was on his knees next to the large wet spot where Frodo had been. He was wet to the waist and he held his face buried in his hands. Next to him, Sam, Pippin, and Rosie huddled together in a small pile. 

Gimli slapped his hands together sharply. The loud crack made everyone jump and turn to him. He gathered them all in with his glance and said, "Okay. There isn't much time. They're on the way to the hospital in Syracuse. We'd better get changed into dry things and get moving so we aren't too far behind them."

They hurried through changing and before Thorin knew it, they were all at the information desk of the hospital. Legolas and Gimli found out where Frodo had been taken and the group took the elevator to the correct floor. 

Frodo looked smaller than Thorin had thought was possible; he was pale and still, his arm hooked up to an IV pole. Sam and Rosie pushed forward. Sam clung to Frodo's free hand, while Rosie pressed a shaking hand to Frodo's forehead.

"Hey," Fili said, pulling Thorin back into the hallway. "I have to call Bilbo."

Thorin knew he couldn't feel any worse. "Yes. I – uh…" 

Fili looked grim. "Do you want to …?"

"No." Thorin rubbed his eyes. "He doesn't know I'm here." _He wouldn't pick up the phone if I called, anyway._

He turned away as Fili started dialing Bilbo's number.

In Frodo's room, things were quiet, but less unhappy than they'd been after he'd been taken away by the ambulance. Gimli, Tauriel, and Legolas stood near the window, chatting quietly. Thorin saw Gimli reach up and hold Legolas' hand as it rested on his shoulder. Kili stood near the bed, talking to Merry and Pippin. He looked worried, but Thorin figured it was residual worry about Frodo.

Fili stuck his head in the door. "What's Bilbo's birthday?"

Everyone looked around at Thorin.

"Why?" Sam asked, when Thorin didn't say anything.

"I've got to get him a plane ticket and I need his information." Fili waved the phone in Sam's direction. 

After another glance at Thorin, Sam stood up and followed Fili into the hallway.

An hour later, a nurse stopped short just inside the room. "Who are all of you?" Her voice was sharp.

"We're his family," Kili said, from the chair next to the head of Frodo's bed. 

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she looked at everyone else. "That's as may be, but there are too many of you right now. He needs rest, not incessant chatter."

Merry opened his mouth, but Thorin turned from where he'd been staring into nothing out the window and said, sharply, "She's right. Let's get back to my father's house." He glared, tight lipped, at Merry and Pippin, then turned to the nurse. "May we leave two people here to keep an eye on him?"

She was reading something from the machine above Frodo's bed but she glanced at him, then down at the papers on her clipboard. Thorin could see when she read his name on the paperwork, because she paled slightly. "Ah, yes, that will be fine," she said, sounding a bit more subdued.

Before Thorin could ask who wanted to stay, Gimli stepped forward. "Tauriel and I will stay." 

"But we're his – " Pippin started, but Kili covered his mouth.

Gimli stepped up next to Thorin and faced out the window; his eyes were gentle on Thorin's face. "She and I aren't connected to the Durin family at all," he said, his voice very soft. "Legolas' last name isn't as well known as yours is here, but it's still relatively public. We're … more stealthy."

Thorin stared at him, but Gimli just looked back, placid as a lake. Finally, Thorin said, "Thank you. That's very smart."

"Plus," Tauriel said, her voice bright in comparison, "both of us are good fighters, so if whoever the fuck that was tries again, they'll have to get through us."

Back at Thrain's house, Thorin sat down in the kitchen with his father and told him about the shooting. He found himself thinking about the man he'd seen, the shooter, and shook his head when Thrain asked if recognized him. 

"I don't know, father. I – he looked familiar, but I can't place him. Right now, I'm not sure what I was seeing, anyway." Thorin stretched and slumped back down. "I … Bilbo will be here tomorrow. Fili got him a plane ticket."

"I look forward to meeting him," Thrain said. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Thorin's. "I hope he understands that he is welcome here at any time."

Thorin looked away from his father's gaze. "I'll tell him." He stared at the shadows in the corners of the room. "I was thinking that I might get a hotel room – just for a day or two."

Thrain looked confused, then his shoulders slumped. "Thorin, my son, I'm certain that he will not –" 

"Thank you, father." Thorin stood up. "I'm very tired and I need to get up early tomorrow to go back to the hospital." 

In his bedroom, surrounded by his lost childhood, Thorin looked at the bag with Frodo's belongings. The nurse had shoved the bundle at him as they'd left; he hadn't even known what it was until he'd glanced in it after everyone else had gone inside his father's house.

He sighed deeply and lifted the bag to put it on the desk in his bedroom. It was oddly stiff; he closed his hand around something and felt a sharp corner through the bag's thin plastic.

"What is …" Inside the bag, bundled into Frodo's sopping clothing, was a large heavy envelope. Thorin pulled it out and let it rest on his desk. He saw a little pool of water begin to collect under it. With his lips pressed tightly together, he pulled the flap open and looked inside.

The next morning, he refused to think about the fact that Bilbo would be arriving soon. He poked at his breakfast, keeping his eyes down and away from his father's face, then drove to the hospital, diligently ignoring the chatter between Merry and Pippin in the back seat. Legolas, in the passenger seat, sat quietly watching the scenery pass.

After Thorin parked the car and the two teenagers raced ahead, Legolas put his hand on Thorin's shoulder. "I will meet Bilbo here at the door," he said, his voice gentle. "Fili said his flight lands at around ten, so he'll be here by 10:30."

Thorin flinched. "Thanks," he muttered. "I'll … I'll see if there's a coffee shop or something nearby."

Legolas squeezed his shoulder and walked into the hospital. 

Thorin wandered through the hospital. He hadn't been able to leave – he'd looked up local cafés, but there weren't any close. He ended up in the hospital cafeteria, staring blankly at his phone. 10:30 came and went and he closed his eyes, picturing Bilbo's face as he saw Frodo – saw Thorin's abject and total failure to protect Bilbo's family – for the first time. 

His phone clock flipped to noon and he stood up. _I should go check on Frodo. Maybe they need me to get them lunch or something._ The hallways were busy and he threaded through the crowds, stepping to the side as hospital staff trotted along. At Frodo's open door, he stopped short, his heart pounding. 

He could hear conversation in the room, Bilbo's voice mixing with the others'. Suddenly, there was a burst of exclamations and Merry came diving through the door, one hand over his mouth, his face slightly green.

Thorin stepped forward, catching Merry by the arm. "What? Frodo's not –" 

"He doesn't remember," Merry moaned. "He asked when his _parents_ are going to get here." He dropped his head into his hands. "This is all my fault. Shit, shit, shit."

Out of the corners of his eyes, Thorin saw Frodo's doctor step into the room. He pulled Merry gently further down the hall away from the door and stood so that an empty gurney hid them. "Hey kid," he said, pulling Merry's chin up so he could look him in the eyes. "This is _not_ your fault. You're not to blame." After a moment, he asked, "Why do you think it's your fault, anyway?"

"If I hadn't figured out what happened to that stupid stone, then Frodo would never have been shot." Merry sounded near tears and without thinking about it, Thorin hugged him. 

"Nope. Not at all. This isn't your fault. You didn't shoot him, you don't have anything to worry about. In fact – " Thorin broke off as he realized that the only reason they weren't setting up for a funeral right now was because Bilbo had loaned Frodo his bulletproof jacket. _Oh dear god._ His stomach tried to crawl up his throat. _What if …_

"There you are," Kili said. "I figured you'd be lurking around here. He's been taken off to the doctor's office to talk about Frodo's treatment. He won't know how to get back." He patted Thorin's shoulder and turned to Merry. "Hey, kid. What's up? Frodo's asking about you."

Thorin stood in the empty hallway and clenched his hands. _If it's anyone's fault, it's mine._

After asking a nurse, he found the hallway with Dr Bombadil's office. He thought about waiting just outside the door, but then thought that might be a little too much like he was stalking Bilbo. While he was trying to decide if he should continue to wait or just ask a nurse to give Bilbo directions, Bilbo stepped out of Dr Bombadil's office.

_He looks so pale._ Thorin felt every part of himself yearn forward. _I will never let anything else bad happen to you. Never._

Bilbo pressed his hands to his eyes, then looked up and down the hallway. When his eyes met Thorin's, Thorin held his arms out without thinking. To his surprise, Bilbo came down the hallway so fast he hit Thorin hard enough to shove them both against the wall. Thorin closed his arms around Bilbo and felt something in his chest – something which had been tense and jittery for months – calm and relax. 

_I'll never leave you alone again._ He buried his nose in Bilbo's hair and breathed deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any parts of the main story you'd like to see alternate POVs of, or if you want to see anything really that's not showing from Bilbo's POV, just let me know!


	8. Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Thorin's side of the separation that begins in chapter [49](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2589326/chapters/11412289).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I picture Thorin listening to this cover of [Sound of Silence](https://youtu.be/u9Dg-g7t2l4) over and over again, the idiot. I think he'd relate to the opening line, at the very least.

"You're a fucking idiot, d'you know that?"

"Yes," Thorin replied, not looking at Dwalin. He shoved past his friend and dropped the bags he was carrying on his kitchen floor. "Fuck you."

Dwalin snorted. "Come on. Why do I have to hear – from Kili, of all people – that you've dumped Bilbo?"

"Kili should keep his fucking nose in his own fucking business," Thorin snarled. He pulled out a gallon of milk and a bunch of celery, then put them on the counter. "And I didn't dump him," he muttered. "It's for his own good."

Dwalin crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame. "You can't have that both ways, you know. Which is it? You didn't dump him or you did, but 'for his own good'?"

Thorin scowled and opened the fridge, putting the groceries away. "Fuck off."

Dwalin sighed and started filling the kettle. "I can see this'll take a while," he said. "Want coffee, or are you just going to sit there and sulk?"

Thorin sank down at the table and sighed. "What, Dwalin? What do you suggest I do? Stay there and let him continue to be harassed by Azog and the rest of the media? You know exactly what it's like, why would he want that?"

Dwalin propped his hands on his hips. "Did you ask him what he wants?"

"He doesn't know what Azog's like. Bilbo has no idea what he's in for – and his family just died. Do you think that _now_ is a good time for him to learn what it's like to be stalked? How about next year?" 

Dwalin sighed and dropped his arms. The kettle pinged and he turned to make coffee. "I think you're tense enough – want tea?"

Thorin stood up. "Get out." At Dwalin's stiffened shoulders, Thorin said, "I know you mean well, but I've decided. This is what's best for Bilbo, and that's what's most important."

Dwalin set the kettle back down. "You're being a real shitbag about this, you know. He gets to have a say in his life. What do you think this looks like to him? You're abandoning him right when he really needs you."

Thorin set his jaw, then walked out of the kitchen and upstairs without looking at Dwalin again.

The next day, he woke up slowly, finally stumbling downstairs when he was so hungry he felt ill. In the kitchen, Dwalin had left the kettle full and the french press ready to go. He'd also left a note.

_"Talk to him."_

Thorin crumpled the note in his fist and started the kettle. He made coffee and drank it without paying attention. It wasn't until he got to the bottom of the cup and found his mouth flooded with grounds that he realized he hadn't strained it well, nor had he added milk. 

In the living room, he saw echoes of Bilbo – standing at the windows, sitting on the couch, leaning over him and kissing … 

"FUCK!"

He pulled out his phone and dialed. "Yes … right, it's Thorin. … Can I speak to – oh, Denethor. Yes, I was hoping to talk to – ah, how are you?"

"Fine, thank you for asking. What can I do for you?" Denethor sounded disinterested.

"Thank you. I was looking for your son." Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Boromir is busy right now. I can ask him to get back to you, if you want, but are you sure there's nothing I can do?" .

"Isn't Faramir around?"

"Faramir?" Denethor's voice chilled. "He's here somewhere, I'm sure. Worthless boy is always underfoot."

Thorin gritted his teeth. "Would your assistant know how to get ahold of him?"

"Jenny? Probably. I'll put you through to her, but you'd be better off waiting for Boromir." There was a series of clicking sounds. 

"Thorin? Sorry about that, I didn't get to the phone in time." Jenny's voice was warm. "Faramir's in his office – he's a bit swamped, but I'm sure he can break away for you. In fact, it'll be a good way to make him eat lunch. Can I convince you to make this meeting in person? He might eat something before midnight if you do."

Thorin felt a little of his gloom lift. "I'll tell him I'm coming in. He's not eating again?"

Jenny sighed. "Well, he's distracted a lot of the time, so we try to get him to eat at his desk. It's been a busy week."

"I'll take him out for the rest of the day," Thorin said, and was rewarded by Jenny's laugh.

Nearly an hour later, Thorin parked near the water in Sausalito and strolled down Bridgeway, dodging tourists as they chattered like birds and peered into every shop window. He gritted his teeth as another person stopped short, squealing at some piece of pointless glass tat. 

"Excuse me," he snapped, stepping around her and shoving through the rest of the group. He deliberately ignored their comments as he strode forward, pleased at the way his heels hit the ground hard. 

"Hey, there you are!" 

Thorin glanced to the side and saw a young man with shaggy blond hair waving at him from a small table in front of a café on a side street. There were two large glasses of beer already on the table; just the sight of them made Thorin's shoulders relax. He sank down into the empty seat at the table and sighed.

"You look like shit." 

"Thanks. Good to know it shows." Thorin ran a hand down his face. "What's Boromir working on?"

Faramir's smile tilted slightly. "He's working on the early planning for the NoisePop thing. I don't think Denethor knows he's started working with them."

Thorin chuckled. "Well, at least it's not like the year he helped out with the Folsom Street Fair."

Faramir's laugh was deep and rich. "I think Denethor still flinches when he drives past there." He waved a waiter over. "Now, let's order some food and you can tell me all about whatever's making you look so bad. I thought you were finally settling down."

When they'd both ordered, Thorin said, "So, Jenny says you're not eating?"

"You can't distract me, Thorin. We're here to talk about you, otherwise, I'd still be in my office. And she's lying – she brings me a sandwich and soda every afternoon and I eat them, like a good boy."

"I need to get out of the area. I – " Thorin pressed his lips together. "Azog's paying attention to me again."

Faramir raised his eyebrows, then leaned back to let the waiter set their plates down. He accepted several twists of freshly ground pepper onto his salad, then leaned forward as the man stepped away. "What the hell, Thorin. I thought he'd moved on."

Thorin shook his head, looking bleakly at his sandwich and soup. "So had I." He spooned the soup up. It was thin compared to Bilbo's. "He hasn't, and I have to get away, to make him ignore – I want him to leave my family alone."

Faramir looked up from his salad, a loaded fork nearly at his mouth. "He's attacking your family? But he's always left Dis and your nephews alone." He stuck the bite in his mouth, then pulled the still-full fork back out. "Wait. _Wait._ You're telling me that what Legolas said is right? You’ve finally met someone? Someone real? But that's wonderful!" He shoved the bite of food into his mouth again, and as he chewed, his eyes widened. "Oh, shit," he said, after swallowing. "But Azog."

Thorin's face twisted. "But Azog. Yes." He forced himself to finish the soup; he'd never get to have Bilbo's soups again, so why should he care if this one was under seasoned and bland. 

Faramir leaned back, draping one arm over the back of his chair. "Do you really think that Azog will leave this guy alone if you leave?"

Thorin shrugged, his mouth full of a too-large bite of sandwich. 

Faramir turned his spoon over on the table, making flashes of light sparkle across Thorin's vision. "I can get you appearances on Jimmy Kimmel and Jimmy Fallon. How soon do you want them?"

"As soon as you can." Thorin pushed his plate aside. He'd left half the bread but eaten most of the fillings. "And I'll need dates – are there any other events you can get me into?"

"Dates?" Faramir looked at him steadily. "Are you sure?"

Thorin nodded, mute. 

Faramir sighed, then pulled out his phone. "Okay, so let's see. There's a movie premier, that'll be a good start. The Jimmies will be good – do you want a companion for them as well? Whoever I find can't go on stage, but there might be other publicity opportunities." He flicked his eyes at Thorin, then turned his phone screen off again and said, "Look. Why don't you come over to my house and you can tell me all about this guy and what's going on."

Thorin stood. "I – sure. I'll just pay …"

"Don't bother. Förvaltare has a running tab. They'll just add this to the bill."

Late that evening, Thorin lay on his back on one of Faramir's couches, an empty bottle of wine standing on the floor near his feet and the very last of the wine in a glass precariously balanced on his chest. "And then," he said, his voice very slurred, "the fuckers tried to have him decide if he wanted the goddamn boat sent back. There's no way he could possibly … I mean, how does he know what he wants?"

Faramir sat in a leather recliner, fully reclined. His glass was on the wooden tray built into the armrest. "Does he want you to leave?"

"I don't know." Thorin lifted his glass, peering up the stem at the wine. "He'd say he didn't no matter what. He doesn’t know… what that asshole is capable of." He hunched forward and drained the glass, letting it fall gently to the floor. "I'm doing him a favor. I love him, you know."

Faramir chuckled. "You've said. Do you think he'd think this is a favor?"

"It doesn't matter what he thinks," Thorin shouted. He froze, feeling a sudden rush of horror and nausea rush through his body. He surged up and rushed toward the kitchen. _Shit. That's not right. SHIT._

After throwing up in the sink and rinsing his mouth out with tap water, he slunk back into the living room, watching the way his feet stood out against Faramir's dark carpet. "That's not what I meant. Shit."

Faramir watched him, his expression neutral. 

Thorin couldn't look at him for more than a heartbeat; the view of trees in Faramir's back yard was much less damning. "I didn't mean that. Really. I just – he's so trusting, and Azog will rip him to shreds. Bilbo will say that he can handle it, but I don't want to see him get destroyed. I'd rather do this than stay around and wait for the day when Bilbo looks at me and I can see that he wishes we'd never met."

"I'll find you someone nice, someone completely uninterested in drama." Faramir's voice was filled with sympathy.


End file.
